Life . . .
Is life, I suppose.
Although that doesn't help the statement make any more sense.
I need a piano. Or an outdoor track. Or someone named Sue who's close to my age and not in dental school, hence having a free schedule.
What I really need is to learn to be happy with my life the way it is.
Her name doesn't have to be Sue.
Bleck. That's the only word I have for how I have been feeling the past few days.
I just remembered that list of 21 before 21 on here . . . I need to look that up and knock a few of those out. Otherwise I will be a loser come my 21st birthday. Again.
Tomorrow is my birthday. It sucks.
My life kinda sucks right now though so I guess that's to be expected.
Peace.
Wednesday, October 20, 2010
Thursday, September 30, 2010
Almost midnight . . .
I really should not be writing in my blog this late. It's dangerous.
Half an hour ago I was so awfully hot in my apartment and now I have goosebumps. Gosh. My body is exemplifying my apparent fascination for never being satisfied.
I'm beginning to realize that people tend to read a lot more into things I say (or write in the case of this blog) than I intend. Either I'm exceptionally more spiteful or more naive than I think I am. I can't really decide which.
ACTUALLY, I think I just have an odd sense of humor . . . I remember when David first spoke to me he commented on my sarcastic . . . ness. This is how our first facebook conversation went:
David: I got your message.
Me: No way! Really?
David: Ah. Sarcasm. I love it.
That's pretty much word for word.
Anyway. I wasn't angry in my last blog entry, but one of the comments made it seem like I came off that way . . . Let me clarify.
Yes, truthfulness is relative.
I am not feeling remorse. I was attempting to use satire as a way to make readers laugh. I am holding absolutely no anger. I don't think I need to forgive anyone because . . . Um, I was never mad? Or, ah, felt they did anything wrong? I can't forgive nothing. In case you're going to say "yes, you can!" I will respond . . . OKAY! I FORGIVE YOU!
Sure . . . To continue:
The chocolate I wanted had absolutely no relation to all the jazz about truthfulness. I just wanted chocolate. Not as a way to stifle sadness or anger, it was simply a detached thought.
I WISH people wouldn't leave anonymous comments! Because I don't know if it's just the same readers coming back or what! I might start deleting nameless comments!!
Grr.
Naw. that's an empty threat. I like comments too much. Even if they don't make sense and needed to be proofread.
That was a joke.
I'm sure there must be something in the scriptures about saying stuff plainly. But that's beside the point. As my mama said, that's what my dad's culture is like--bluntly honest. Is it right? Ah, not really. Guess it depends on who you ask. is culture a good excuse for ANYTHING? No way, Jose.
ABSOLUTELY NOT.
Just wanted to reiterate. Some people will understand the joke to which I'm alluding to and laugh. Some people will understand and be vividly offended. Which you are says a lot about what kind of character you've built up!
Some people won't understand. Period. What does that say about you? I won't even touch that.
That was another joke. Don't be offended.
I think some people should stop reading this blog. It tends to make them angry which kills brain cells and makes them stupider. If you keep reading, by the time you're 47 and 1/2 your head will be completely hollow.
JOKE.
I have no hard feelings.
If the person who left that comment is actually some stranger from Indiana, I apologize. Email me your address and I'll send you a gift basket.
No I won't.
Ahem, to continue . . .
As our good friend whose name starts with a "D" always says . . . NOBODY IN THIS GENERATION CARES ABOUT PRIVACY! That's why you have a facebook account. Because you secretly want people up in your grill.
Hey, I use FB too.
My last entry wasn't directed at anyone. It was about the world in general.
I'd protect my family to the death. Gr.
Hey, cool thing! My sister (Catia) is taking fencing lessons. Isn't that totally hardcore?
Maybe that's not the right word . . . but cool, huh?
Um, so anyway, to conclude . . .
Well. I should sleep. Gosh, it's cold! I have this weird thing where none of my body can be hanging off the bed and feel the air . . . I freak out. I have to be all bundled up. When I was a kid, I believed something evil and invisible lurked in my room, but it could only have power over me to EAT ME when the lights were off.
Kidding, just kill me. Not eat me.
Anyway, I knew that the Lord would never make my death by evil darkness completely inevitable and He would always have ultimate power, so I convinced myself that after I turned off the lights I had ten seconds to run, jump in my bed, and completely cocoon myself in blankets before IT could touch me. I'd literally count to ten out loud. And sleep with the blanket over my head. After the ten seconds were up, I'd "command" the evil-ness to go away in the Lord's name. My parents always taught me that the Devil couldn't stay if Christ was present.
No joke.
Oh, who am I kidding? I'm STILL a kid. I still have my teddy bears.
Heh, heh.
So . . . where was I going with that . . .
Oh! So I'm on the couch. Meh.
Half an hour ago I was so awfully hot in my apartment and now I have goosebumps. Gosh. My body is exemplifying my apparent fascination for never being satisfied.
I'm beginning to realize that people tend to read a lot more into things I say (or write in the case of this blog) than I intend. Either I'm exceptionally more spiteful or more naive than I think I am. I can't really decide which.
ACTUALLY, I think I just have an odd sense of humor . . . I remember when David first spoke to me he commented on my sarcastic . . . ness. This is how our first facebook conversation went:
David: I got your message.
Me: No way! Really?
David: Ah. Sarcasm. I love it.
That's pretty much word for word.
Anyway. I wasn't angry in my last blog entry, but one of the comments made it seem like I came off that way . . . Let me clarify.
Yes, truthfulness is relative.
I am not feeling remorse. I was attempting to use satire as a way to make readers laugh. I am holding absolutely no anger. I don't think I need to forgive anyone because . . . Um, I was never mad? Or, ah, felt they did anything wrong? I can't forgive nothing. In case you're going to say "yes, you can!" I will respond . . . OKAY! I FORGIVE YOU!
Sure . . . To continue:
The chocolate I wanted had absolutely no relation to all the jazz about truthfulness. I just wanted chocolate. Not as a way to stifle sadness or anger, it was simply a detached thought.
I WISH people wouldn't leave anonymous comments! Because I don't know if it's just the same readers coming back or what! I might start deleting nameless comments!!
Grr.
Naw. that's an empty threat. I like comments too much. Even if they don't make sense and needed to be proofread.
That was a joke.
I'm sure there must be something in the scriptures about saying stuff plainly. But that's beside the point. As my mama said, that's what my dad's culture is like--bluntly honest. Is it right? Ah, not really. Guess it depends on who you ask. is culture a good excuse for ANYTHING? No way, Jose.
ABSOLUTELY NOT.
Just wanted to reiterate. Some people will understand the joke to which I'm alluding to and laugh. Some people will understand and be vividly offended. Which you are says a lot about what kind of character you've built up!
Some people won't understand. Period. What does that say about you? I won't even touch that.
That was another joke. Don't be offended.
I think some people should stop reading this blog. It tends to make them angry which kills brain cells and makes them stupider. If you keep reading, by the time you're 47 and 1/2 your head will be completely hollow.
JOKE.
I have no hard feelings.
If the person who left that comment is actually some stranger from Indiana, I apologize. Email me your address and I'll send you a gift basket.
No I won't.
Ahem, to continue . . .
As our good friend whose name starts with a "D" always says . . . NOBODY IN THIS GENERATION CARES ABOUT PRIVACY! That's why you have a facebook account. Because you secretly want people up in your grill.
Hey, I use FB too.
My last entry wasn't directed at anyone. It was about the world in general.
I'd protect my family to the death. Gr.
Hey, cool thing! My sister (Catia) is taking fencing lessons. Isn't that totally hardcore?
Maybe that's not the right word . . . but cool, huh?
Um, so anyway, to conclude . . .
Well. I should sleep. Gosh, it's cold! I have this weird thing where none of my body can be hanging off the bed and feel the air . . . I freak out. I have to be all bundled up. When I was a kid, I believed something evil and invisible lurked in my room, but it could only have power over me to EAT ME when the lights were off.
Kidding, just kill me. Not eat me.
Anyway, I knew that the Lord would never make my death by evil darkness completely inevitable and He would always have ultimate power, so I convinced myself that after I turned off the lights I had ten seconds to run, jump in my bed, and completely cocoon myself in blankets before IT could touch me. I'd literally count to ten out loud. And sleep with the blanket over my head. After the ten seconds were up, I'd "command" the evil-ness to go away in the Lord's name. My parents always taught me that the Devil couldn't stay if Christ was present.
No joke.
Oh, who am I kidding? I'm STILL a kid. I still have my teddy bears.
Heh, heh.
So . . . where was I going with that . . .
Oh! So I'm on the couch. Meh.
Monday, September 20, 2010
AH@!!$#$%&Y$#!@$#@!!!!!
Someone shoot me!
No, please don't, I actually wouldn't appreciate that one smidgit.
I have nothing to do.
I'm not the kind of person who enjoys down time. Even for a day. Maybe ten minutes is okay.
But really? I like the whole I have two hours to go and be back from the gym, an hour to get ready and eat, be at work fifteen minutes after that, after work have to go grocery shopping . . . etc. I mean, after a busy day watch a movie or something, but alone?? Heck no. KILL ME PLEASE!
I'm so bored.
Yes, yes: me, me, me, I'm, I and all those other self words I tend to use so much. I'm so terribly selfish.
I have learned a very important lesson! Heed well my words, oh thee of . . . pure intent!
Couldn't think of anything cooler.
This is a very important principle! One I think (there's the "I" again! So sorry!) IMPERTINENT for everyone to be aware of!
Here it is . . .
When you hear/read/sniff/catch wind of/assume is inferred the words "BE HONEST," do not for one moment think you understand what they mean! For the phrase "BE HONEST" does in fact NOT mean the spewer of these words wants you to (heaven forbid!) tell the TRUTH (except in very rare cases).
You're a stupid face if you even THOUGHT along those lines! (Don't worry, I'm a stupid face too. Oops--again with the "I'm!" Selfish, selfish Cassi!)
"BE HONEST" actually means "I want to give you a lecture and feel high and mighty about myself. Please grovel, agree with everything I say, and we with both put on false smiles, hiding our feelings for later. This way, years down the road, we will have something to talk/argue about!"
Makes perfect sense for all you SANE people out there.
No.
No.
No.
NO!
Don't ask people for honesty and then be angry when you receive it!
It is my personal, newly acquired belief that there simply some people in the world who enjoy the feelings of anger coming over them in a fight. After all--nothing bonds people together better than a common enemy!
Although I would like to suggest to all my readers out there . . .
When you decide to be angry at someone, first of four little letters: WWJD.
If that doesn't immediately pacify you, you are of the devil!
Kidding.
But seriously, before you decide to go out of your way to make another person's life difficult (yes, gossipping counts as going out of your way), try to put yourself in their shoes. What could they have been thinking when they did the atrocity that so infuriates you? What is their reasoning or motivation? Is there a reason? If the answer is no, then they are either a stupid person or had a stupid moment. Give them a break! If the answer is yes, why not attempt to discover said reasoning and try to relate? Maybe you can end up loving each other.
Also, I believe there are certain instances when, if a person has made you angry, you should simply forgive and forget. Not shelf it for later hashing.
Like . . . someone who's mom just died should be cut a break for egging your house. Or someone who's under a lot of stress from a recent move. Or a lot of other things.
Anyway, rambling! Need chocolate.
No, please don't, I actually wouldn't appreciate that one smidgit.
I have nothing to do.
I'm not the kind of person who enjoys down time. Even for a day. Maybe ten minutes is okay.
But really? I like the whole I have two hours to go and be back from the gym, an hour to get ready and eat, be at work fifteen minutes after that, after work have to go grocery shopping . . . etc. I mean, after a busy day watch a movie or something, but alone?? Heck no. KILL ME PLEASE!
I'm so bored.
Yes, yes: me, me, me, I'm, I and all those other self words I tend to use so much. I'm so terribly selfish.
I have learned a very important lesson! Heed well my words, oh thee of . . . pure intent!
Couldn't think of anything cooler.
This is a very important principle! One I think (there's the "I" again! So sorry!) IMPERTINENT for everyone to be aware of!
Here it is . . .
When you hear/read/sniff/catch wind of/assume is inferred the words "BE HONEST," do not for one moment think you understand what they mean! For the phrase "BE HONEST" does in fact NOT mean the spewer of these words wants you to (heaven forbid!) tell the TRUTH (except in very rare cases).
You're a stupid face if you even THOUGHT along those lines! (Don't worry, I'm a stupid face too. Oops--again with the "I'm!" Selfish, selfish Cassi!)
"BE HONEST" actually means "I want to give you a lecture and feel high and mighty about myself. Please grovel, agree with everything I say, and we with both put on false smiles, hiding our feelings for later. This way, years down the road, we will have something to talk/argue about!"
Makes perfect sense for all you SANE people out there.
No.
No.
No.
NO!
Don't ask people for honesty and then be angry when you receive it!
It is my personal, newly acquired belief that there simply some people in the world who enjoy the feelings of anger coming over them in a fight. After all--nothing bonds people together better than a common enemy!
Although I would like to suggest to all my readers out there . . .
When you decide to be angry at someone, first of four little letters: WWJD.
If that doesn't immediately pacify you, you are of the devil!
Kidding.
But seriously, before you decide to go out of your way to make another person's life difficult (yes, gossipping counts as going out of your way), try to put yourself in their shoes. What could they have been thinking when they did the atrocity that so infuriates you? What is their reasoning or motivation? Is there a reason? If the answer is no, then they are either a stupid person or had a stupid moment. Give them a break! If the answer is yes, why not attempt to discover said reasoning and try to relate? Maybe you can end up loving each other.
Also, I believe there are certain instances when, if a person has made you angry, you should simply forgive and forget. Not shelf it for later hashing.
Like . . . someone who's mom just died should be cut a break for egging your house. Or someone who's under a lot of stress from a recent move. Or a lot of other things.
Anyway, rambling! Need chocolate.
Friday, September 10, 2010
I Am So Sad
For once, my title is going to correlate to my entry.
UMKC no longer offers a musical theater degree.
I don't know what I'm going to do.
I feel like my whole world kind of just came to a standstill. I was doing so well: I got the apartment all unpacked, spent hours scrubbing every surface in the area . . . I mean, you could lick my toilet and it's probably cleaner than our dishes. I was loving it. I even finished all my thank-you letters.
Now . . . there's all this drama going on and even with that I was peachy and happier than two peas in a pod because I was here . . .
I've been communicating with the school about the musical theater degree and they just emailed me to let me know that as of LAST WEEK they did away with the degree. They have music or theater. It's impossible for me to do musical theater.
It's hard to explain . .
I dance.
But I'm not a dancer.
I sing.
But I'm not a singer.
I act.
And I am definitely one of the best actresses out there. But it doesn't feel right without the other two. MUSICALS are my passion. I don't like regular theater. So I don't know what to do. I suppose I should start looking into other schools and see what my options are, but I'm just so depressed. I don't know if there is another school I can go to. Which means I can either settle for normal theater (which I don't think I can) or not go to school.
I'm going to go call my mom.
UMKC no longer offers a musical theater degree.
I don't know what I'm going to do.
I feel like my whole world kind of just came to a standstill. I was doing so well: I got the apartment all unpacked, spent hours scrubbing every surface in the area . . . I mean, you could lick my toilet and it's probably cleaner than our dishes. I was loving it. I even finished all my thank-you letters.
Now . . . there's all this drama going on and even with that I was peachy and happier than two peas in a pod because I was here . . .
I've been communicating with the school about the musical theater degree and they just emailed me to let me know that as of LAST WEEK they did away with the degree. They have music or theater. It's impossible for me to do musical theater.
It's hard to explain . .
I dance.
But I'm not a dancer.
I sing.
But I'm not a singer.
I act.
And I am definitely one of the best actresses out there. But it doesn't feel right without the other two. MUSICALS are my passion. I don't like regular theater. So I don't know what to do. I suppose I should start looking into other schools and see what my options are, but I'm just so depressed. I don't know if there is another school I can go to. Which means I can either settle for normal theater (which I don't think I can) or not go to school.
I'm going to go call my mom.
Tuesday, August 31, 2010
Eeps, Ipes, Opes, Oops! One Jumps In And Goes Ker-PLOP!
You are correct. My title is from the game Down By the Banks. Of the Hanky-Panky.
You never had a childhood if you don't know what I'm talking about.
What am I saying? I still love playing that game!
Anyhow, it is almost three in the morning on Tuesday the 31st.
I am pretty much all packed up to move to Missouri! All that is missing is some dirty laundry, a few t-shirts for me to wear these next couple days, and all the make up and products I'll need.
I learned to make eclairs . . . !! Not to took my own horn, but they're one of the most amazing things I've ever eaten in my life. Took some serious self-control to not eat all hundred or so.
Speaking of self-control and food . . . if my calculations are correct, I have gained two and a half pounds in the last week in a half. Which was my goal, but gosh, it's depressing. I know I'm now still only fourteen and a half pounds, which is about where I was at during first semester last year, and I know that during first semester I thought I was oh-so awesomely thin at that weight, but now I just feel fat, fat, FAT!
It's horrible. Sigh.
Plus, I'm having some pretty bad bloating which I know makes me look even worse. On the bright side, I think I'm about to start my period, which is good because that was what I was trying to force into existence with with the whole gaining weight.
Great. Now that I've invited you all to share all the finer, more personal details of my life . . .
I'm so excited to move to Missouri! I'm excited to fill all my blank pictures frames and finally have my OWN apartment. And have a job as a waitress! Hopefully.
I need to become more regular on this blogging thing if I ever expect to get famous and win the Nobel peace blog prize.
So . . . Who wants to hear about Puerto Rico?
I knew you did!
Well too bad!
It'd be too long for a measly blog entry. Maybe I'll publish a book. Sufficeth to say, it did not quite go quite as I had expected. Not exactly my favorite place in the world. But I realize that most of that is because of my weird, eccentric, view on health and eating. A city of hot dog vendors and frying oil where I can't run down the street to Walmart without getting shot or raped or both (in either order) just doesn't do it for me. I am sure going to miss that about Utah when I move next Monday . . .
Which reminds me of a story from my childhood . . .
Once I had this friend named Alyssa. I thought we'd be bffs FOREVER. Then she had to move to California. So my closet-poet-secretly-super-emotional side decided to write her a letter about how much she's changed my life and stuff, but I was too much of a wuss to give it to her because it made me feel like a baby. A few years later, at EFY, we were both forced to share our testimonies (something I find extremely difficult to do, with the whole displaying emotion other than excited happiness) during which I confessed how much it'd pained me for her to leave, and discovered she'd been exactly the same way.
Poo. I love that girl. We don't really talk much, but when you have a good friend you kind of always consider them one of your best friends even if you're so detached you now feel slightly awkward around them. Haha.
Love you Alyssa (if you're reading this)!
Now, I LOVE confrontation, but when I confront someone, I smile and play the whole I'm-above-this-obviously-because-it's-not-phasing-me-one-tinsy-bit role. But I feel angry SO MUCH! And sad and a whole skew of other things. And I feel it a lot. I used to always get mad at people for not knowing when I was upset and rushing to fix things, but now I realize . . . that no one ever knows. For instance, for a few days while we were in Puerto Rico I had . . . some really low self esteem days, just because of the whole not-being-healthy-stress stuff. One night I totally broke down and cried for hours, but no one else knew. No one. So when they were getting on us for not wanting to drive hours to some place to hang out with the family, I wanted to scream LEAVE ME ALONE, CAN'T YOU SEE THAT ALL I WANT TO DO RIGHT NOW IS BREAK THE T.V. SCREEN WITH ME HEAD? I NEED TIME TO RECUPERATE AND FIX MYSELF!
But I didn't. And I was mad they didn't know. Did they know I was mad? Of course not. I didn't show any sign. I didn't say anything.
When we finally got back from Puerto Rico I wanted to write everyone an email about how wrong everything was while we were there and what they did wrong. But after letting it cool for a while, I realized . . .
All I had needed to do to fix things and make them better was show a little more emotion and opinions. And if I had a crappy time because I wasn't willing to let people see how I was feeling, well, that's my fault. Not his. They wanted to be all out there and I have a good vacation and I just wasn't quite in sync.
Oh, gosh, this is getting too long.
Peace out, yo, my non-existent readers!
If this totally doesn't make sense, forgive me! Now that I'm finished, it's almost four in the morning!
You never had a childhood if you don't know what I'm talking about.
What am I saying? I still love playing that game!
Anyhow, it is almost three in the morning on Tuesday the 31st.
I am pretty much all packed up to move to Missouri! All that is missing is some dirty laundry, a few t-shirts for me to wear these next couple days, and all the make up and products I'll need.
I learned to make eclairs . . . !! Not to took my own horn, but they're one of the most amazing things I've ever eaten in my life. Took some serious self-control to not eat all hundred or so.
Speaking of self-control and food . . . if my calculations are correct, I have gained two and a half pounds in the last week in a half. Which was my goal, but gosh, it's depressing. I know I'm now still only fourteen and a half pounds, which is about where I was at during first semester last year, and I know that during first semester I thought I was oh-so awesomely thin at that weight, but now I just feel fat, fat, FAT!
It's horrible. Sigh.
Plus, I'm having some pretty bad bloating which I know makes me look even worse. On the bright side, I think I'm about to start my period, which is good because that was what I was trying to force into existence with with the whole gaining weight.
Great. Now that I've invited you all to share all the finer, more personal details of my life . . .
I'm so excited to move to Missouri! I'm excited to fill all my blank pictures frames and finally have my OWN apartment. And have a job as a waitress! Hopefully.
I need to become more regular on this blogging thing if I ever expect to get famous and win the Nobel peace blog prize.
So . . . Who wants to hear about Puerto Rico?
I knew you did!
Well too bad!
It'd be too long for a measly blog entry. Maybe I'll publish a book. Sufficeth to say, it did not quite go quite as I had expected. Not exactly my favorite place in the world. But I realize that most of that is because of my weird, eccentric, view on health and eating. A city of hot dog vendors and frying oil where I can't run down the street to Walmart without getting shot or raped or both (in either order) just doesn't do it for me. I am sure going to miss that about Utah when I move next Monday . . .
Which reminds me of a story from my childhood . . .
Once I had this friend named Alyssa. I thought we'd be bffs FOREVER. Then she had to move to California. So my closet-poet-secretly-super-emotional side decided to write her a letter about how much she's changed my life and stuff, but I was too much of a wuss to give it to her because it made me feel like a baby. A few years later, at EFY, we were both forced to share our testimonies (something I find extremely difficult to do, with the whole displaying emotion other than excited happiness) during which I confessed how much it'd pained me for her to leave, and discovered she'd been exactly the same way.
Poo. I love that girl. We don't really talk much, but when you have a good friend you kind of always consider them one of your best friends even if you're so detached you now feel slightly awkward around them. Haha.
Love you Alyssa (if you're reading this)!
Now, I LOVE confrontation, but when I confront someone, I smile and play the whole I'm-above-this-obviously-because-it's-not-phasing-me-one-tinsy-bit role. But I feel angry SO MUCH! And sad and a whole skew of other things. And I feel it a lot. I used to always get mad at people for not knowing when I was upset and rushing to fix things, but now I realize . . . that no one ever knows. For instance, for a few days while we were in Puerto Rico I had . . . some really low self esteem days, just because of the whole not-being-healthy-stress stuff. One night I totally broke down and cried for hours, but no one else knew. No one. So when they were getting on us for not wanting to drive hours to some place to hang out with the family, I wanted to scream LEAVE ME ALONE, CAN'T YOU SEE THAT ALL I WANT TO DO RIGHT NOW IS BREAK THE T.V. SCREEN WITH ME HEAD? I NEED TIME TO RECUPERATE AND FIX MYSELF!
But I didn't. And I was mad they didn't know. Did they know I was mad? Of course not. I didn't show any sign. I didn't say anything.
When we finally got back from Puerto Rico I wanted to write everyone an email about how wrong everything was while we were there and what they did wrong. But after letting it cool for a while, I realized . . .
All I had needed to do to fix things and make them better was show a little more emotion and opinions. And if I had a crappy time because I wasn't willing to let people see how I was feeling, well, that's my fault. Not his. They wanted to be all out there and I have a good vacation and I just wasn't quite in sync.
Oh, gosh, this is getting too long.
Peace out, yo, my non-existent readers!
If this totally doesn't make sense, forgive me! Now that I'm finished, it's almost four in the morning!
Saturday, July 24, 2010
Nasty Pinecones
My life this entire summer has been pretty much pointless. A few days ago someone backed into me while I was parked either at work or the grocery store.
I think it was at work because I pulled through into my parking spot at the store, so there was a whole spot behind me and only an idiot could accidentally hit me . I suppose it could have been at home but I was only there for about half an hour before I went to David's place and then I was only parked THERE for five minutes before we went outside and saw it.
I feel pretty stupid for not noticing it when I left work because it's kinda really . . . big. When I left the grocery store I never walked around the back so if it happened there I'd feel better about myself.
Anyway.
I think it was a guy. In a truck. With a hitch.
A guy because most truck drivers are guys. A truck because most cars I see with hitches are trucks. A hitch because the hole in the left side of my bumper looks like something a hitch would do. They also pushed a dent into the right side below the trunk. The trunk will still close and stay closed, but there's a small gap that might be a problem should we have any bad rain or snow.
Unfortunately, it's not my car. It's my parent's. David was telling me that he can't imagine my parents forcing me to pay for the damage since it wasn't my fault. But it wasn't their fault either.
The car was in my possesion, and the occurence would never have happened had I not come along because it would have been in a garage. So part of being an upstanding, responsible daughter is paying for the damage to be fixed. And that's what I plan on doing.
I wish I could get it done before my family comes home from Portugal in 1 1/2 weeks, but I won't have the money by that time so it's impossible. I'm not excited to see my mom freak out. I'm also debating whether or not I should tell her now or wait until they're back from vacation. If I tell now, it might ruin her day, and that's not cool for a vacation. But if I wait until later, she might feel like I was trying to hide it from her. So I don't know.
The most irritating thing is that I'm working 40 hours a week at a call center earning 10 dollars an hour or less, wishing I could scratch out my eyes every second I'm there. I also have another on and off job writing articles for an online company (when the work is there) and then I recently started working for chacha as a guide to bring in extra money. My whole life is work. And now, because someone had to be a dishonest idiot, it's gone. Every little penny I have earned and will potentially earn this summer will go towards fixing this car, and that might not even be enough. It almost me want to cry.
I did file a police report. As a formality.
When I imagine the person who did this to me, I'd like to think of him as the rough, gangster, destined-for-jail type. But really? He's probably a normal kid, like me. Maybe it's really a girl. If I destroyed someone else's car, would I stick around to pay for the damage?
Yes, I would. But it'd be really hard/tempting to just leave.
So I don't really hate the dude. I just feel sad and tired and overworked.
I think it was at work because I pulled through into my parking spot at the store, so there was a whole spot behind me and only an idiot could accidentally hit me . I suppose it could have been at home but I was only there for about half an hour before I went to David's place and then I was only parked THERE for five minutes before we went outside and saw it.
I feel pretty stupid for not noticing it when I left work because it's kinda really . . . big. When I left the grocery store I never walked around the back so if it happened there I'd feel better about myself.
Anyway.
I think it was a guy. In a truck. With a hitch.
A guy because most truck drivers are guys. A truck because most cars I see with hitches are trucks. A hitch because the hole in the left side of my bumper looks like something a hitch would do. They also pushed a dent into the right side below the trunk. The trunk will still close and stay closed, but there's a small gap that might be a problem should we have any bad rain or snow.
Unfortunately, it's not my car. It's my parent's. David was telling me that he can't imagine my parents forcing me to pay for the damage since it wasn't my fault. But it wasn't their fault either.
The car was in my possesion, and the occurence would never have happened had I not come along because it would have been in a garage. So part of being an upstanding, responsible daughter is paying for the damage to be fixed. And that's what I plan on doing.
I wish I could get it done before my family comes home from Portugal in 1 1/2 weeks, but I won't have the money by that time so it's impossible. I'm not excited to see my mom freak out. I'm also debating whether or not I should tell her now or wait until they're back from vacation. If I tell now, it might ruin her day, and that's not cool for a vacation. But if I wait until later, she might feel like I was trying to hide it from her. So I don't know.
The most irritating thing is that I'm working 40 hours a week at a call center earning 10 dollars an hour or less, wishing I could scratch out my eyes every second I'm there. I also have another on and off job writing articles for an online company (when the work is there) and then I recently started working for chacha as a guide to bring in extra money. My whole life is work. And now, because someone had to be a dishonest idiot, it's gone. Every little penny I have earned and will potentially earn this summer will go towards fixing this car, and that might not even be enough. It almost me want to cry.
I did file a police report. As a formality.
When I imagine the person who did this to me, I'd like to think of him as the rough, gangster, destined-for-jail type. But really? He's probably a normal kid, like me. Maybe it's really a girl. If I destroyed someone else's car, would I stick around to pay for the damage?
Yes, I would. But it'd be really hard/tempting to just leave.
So I don't really hate the dude. I just feel sad and tired and overworked.
Gr.
Two days ago I decided I didn't like the tip of my left pinky finger.
After reaching this decision I then tried to remove the offending area by slamming down on it with a very dull knife.
Now the ironic thing here is that I had been previously warned about this knife. . . Some nonsense about dull knives being more dangerous than sharp, new ones.
Unfortunately, I didn't manage to get even half way through my finger. Almost, though. Almost there.
So the real story is that I was getting ready for work, chopping up an apple, and somehow my left pinky finger got in the way so I cut myself.
I wasn't joking about it being almost half way through my finger.
I managed to procure two butterfly band-aides from my work's first aid kit and a fistful of normal band-aides so that's how I survived my 8 1/2 hour shift yesterday with my finger half way off. I tried to stop by Target to get butterfly band-aides but they didn't have any. How weird is that?
Anyway, after work I saw some little market on the way home and managed to find some butterfly and special finger bandages there. When I got home, I tried to clean the gaping wound but there was so much extremely dried blood that it hurt to try to peel it off. I also couldn't quite get each side of the cut to touch with the butterfly band-aides, but it was close.
This morning when I was in the shower, the steam and random water splashes cleaned the dried blood off quite thourally. I was stupid and curious so I pulled apart the edges to see exactly how deep the cut way. Ouch! But yeah, almost halfway through.
Sooooo I stuck it back together with butterfly band-aides, put People Paste on it (a miraculous substance that cleans, disinfects, draws out any infection, and can act as a replacement for stitches in a crunch. Love it.), and covered that sucker up.
I feel pretty hardcore. Gr. Maybe I'll try to finish the job today.
After it stops throbbing.
Gr.
After reaching this decision I then tried to remove the offending area by slamming down on it with a very dull knife.
Now the ironic thing here is that I had been previously warned about this knife. . . Some nonsense about dull knives being more dangerous than sharp, new ones.
Unfortunately, I didn't manage to get even half way through my finger. Almost, though. Almost there.
So the real story is that I was getting ready for work, chopping up an apple, and somehow my left pinky finger got in the way so I cut myself.
I wasn't joking about it being almost half way through my finger.
I managed to procure two butterfly band-aides from my work's first aid kit and a fistful of normal band-aides so that's how I survived my 8 1/2 hour shift yesterday with my finger half way off. I tried to stop by Target to get butterfly band-aides but they didn't have any. How weird is that?
Anyway, after work I saw some little market on the way home and managed to find some butterfly and special finger bandages there. When I got home, I tried to clean the gaping wound but there was so much extremely dried blood that it hurt to try to peel it off. I also couldn't quite get each side of the cut to touch with the butterfly band-aides, but it was close.
This morning when I was in the shower, the steam and random water splashes cleaned the dried blood off quite thourally. I was stupid and curious so I pulled apart the edges to see exactly how deep the cut way. Ouch! But yeah, almost halfway through.
Sooooo I stuck it back together with butterfly band-aides, put People Paste on it (a miraculous substance that cleans, disinfects, draws out any infection, and can act as a replacement for stitches in a crunch. Love it.), and covered that sucker up.
I feel pretty hardcore. Gr. Maybe I'll try to finish the job today.
After it stops throbbing.
Gr.
Sunday, June 27, 2010
Agua
Upon reflection of the last few months of my life, I have decided it might benefit my readers if I were to share some of the nuggets of wisdom I have recently gleaned:
Boys don't always eat double the quantity of food that girls eat. The quality, however, is usually different.
Drinking dirty tasting water = massive headache.
There is not way to make fluffy oatmeal cookies.
Having more than multiple big goal will ensure failure of inadequate accomplishment of at least one of them.
Facebook is a great tool to help you get even more behind with obligations in the most amount of time possible. Even when you only log on to reply to necessary messages.
Eggs actually taste good when cooked correctly.
People cook eggs with butter.
Brownies from scratch are simply not as scrumptious as the packaged kind. Unless anybody has an amazing recipe they'd like to post for me here!
Diamonds are not impervious to dirt.
Now just a fact I'll like to share: I'd rather die than ever get a good whiff of sulfur again. David and I hiked to these hot springs yesterday intending to swim . . . but I was having trouble just standing by them. GACK!
Leave me some comments with tidbits of wisdom (both serious and funny) you've figured out over the course of your life!
I LOVE YOU (most likely)!
Boys don't always eat double the quantity of food that girls eat. The quality, however, is usually different.
Drinking dirty tasting water = massive headache.
There is not way to make fluffy oatmeal cookies.
Having more than multiple big goal will ensure failure of inadequate accomplishment of at least one of them.
Facebook is a great tool to help you get even more behind with obligations in the most amount of time possible. Even when you only log on to reply to necessary messages.
Eggs actually taste good when cooked correctly.
People cook eggs with butter.
Brownies from scratch are simply not as scrumptious as the packaged kind. Unless anybody has an amazing recipe they'd like to post for me here!
Diamonds are not impervious to dirt.
Now just a fact I'll like to share: I'd rather die than ever get a good whiff of sulfur again. David and I hiked to these hot springs yesterday intending to swim . . . but I was having trouble just standing by them. GACK!
Leave me some comments with tidbits of wisdom (both serious and funny) you've figured out over the course of your life!
I LOVE YOU (most likely)!
Saturday, June 26, 2010
Max
I am soooo sorry I have no blogged in sooo long. I've been busy! Really!
So I got into an accident a few weeks ago. All because of a pickle-eating-chum-bucket man named Max.
At least, it makes sense to me that it's his fault. Nobody else seems to really agree.
Here's what happened:
I applied for a job as a content writer for some business and get an email a few days later from a fellow named Max saying he'd like to interview me. He says he would have called me, except he couldn't find my phone number on my resume. I thought that was awfully strange so I pull up my resume and . . . yup! There it is! Plain as day on the top of the page. But whatever.
I didn't call him (didn't even look at his email) for a few days because I was seriously ill. When I did eventually call, we set up a time to interview. At ten fifteen one morning. I had to be at work at eleven and this interview was twenty minutes away. So I drive clear down there and guess what?
I can't find him anywhere. I try to call him, but he doesn't answer the phone. After a while, I give up--feeling quite irate. I start driving home. On my way home, I realize I don't have time to get all the way home and then all the way to work so I just start heading to work and be there early.
As I'm turning left on an intersection, this guy hits me!
Let me clarify the situation . . .
It was a two lane left turning dealio. I was in the outside turning lane. He was on the inside. While we turn he decides he doesn't want to be on the inside and swings into my lane. But I'm not behind him. I'm right next to him. I tried to scoot over, but I couldn't go onto the last lane because there were cars there turning right. Sheesh!
We pull over, I freak out, he says not to worry because he's going to take full responsibility. I call my dad, who gets there at the tail end . . . I think I made the guy feel really bad because I was BAWLING.
Then the guy that hits me tells me he just got laid off. I felt kinda bad.
But back to MAX!
If Max had not called me for that gosh dang stupid interview and then not shown up, I never would have been in that intersection at that time so it's all his fault!!
P.S. Later Max called me to say 'did I miss the time that you were supposed to be here?' Loser. He didn't even acknowledge that he missed my calls.
JERK FACE!!
So I got into an accident a few weeks ago. All because of a pickle-eating-chum-bucket man named Max.
At least, it makes sense to me that it's his fault. Nobody else seems to really agree.
Here's what happened:
I applied for a job as a content writer for some business and get an email a few days later from a fellow named Max saying he'd like to interview me. He says he would have called me, except he couldn't find my phone number on my resume. I thought that was awfully strange so I pull up my resume and . . . yup! There it is! Plain as day on the top of the page. But whatever.
I didn't call him (didn't even look at his email) for a few days because I was seriously ill. When I did eventually call, we set up a time to interview. At ten fifteen one morning. I had to be at work at eleven and this interview was twenty minutes away. So I drive clear down there and guess what?
I can't find him anywhere. I try to call him, but he doesn't answer the phone. After a while, I give up--feeling quite irate. I start driving home. On my way home, I realize I don't have time to get all the way home and then all the way to work so I just start heading to work and be there early.
As I'm turning left on an intersection, this guy hits me!
Let me clarify the situation . . .
It was a two lane left turning dealio. I was in the outside turning lane. He was on the inside. While we turn he decides he doesn't want to be on the inside and swings into my lane. But I'm not behind him. I'm right next to him. I tried to scoot over, but I couldn't go onto the last lane because there were cars there turning right. Sheesh!
We pull over, I freak out, he says not to worry because he's going to take full responsibility. I call my dad, who gets there at the tail end . . . I think I made the guy feel really bad because I was BAWLING.
Then the guy that hits me tells me he just got laid off. I felt kinda bad.
But back to MAX!
If Max had not called me for that gosh dang stupid interview and then not shown up, I never would have been in that intersection at that time so it's all his fault!!
P.S. Later Max called me to say 'did I miss the time that you were supposed to be here?' Loser. He didn't even acknowledge that he missed my calls.
JERK FACE!!
Sunday, May 9, 2010
Keep on truckin' . . .
I am sooooo sorry, my avid readers, for not posting this sooner. I wrote it on Sunday but wanted to read through it before posting but didn't have time . . . and now it's super late. Ah, well. Here goes . . .
Finished all the workouts on the agenda this week! Here is next week's schedule:
Monday: Run 4 miles and light upper and lower body weights
Tuesday: Run 12 miles
Wednesday: My choice of cross training and light upper and lower body weights
Thursday: Run 6 miles
Friday: Run 8 miles and light upper and lower body weights
Saturday: Run 6 miles
Sunday: Rest day
It's exactly the same except the long run on Tuesday is up two miles. It goes up two about every week. Except every fourth week is an easier week to give my body time to recuperate and heal.
David finished his last day of school on Friday! Woohoo! And I will see him in . . . three stinkin' days! Pretty stoked for that.
Today I have half a mohawk. I spiked up the back of my head with gel and bobby pins. It's kinda weird, but I like it. Guess I'm kinda a true drama kid at heart. Somewhere deep, deep in my heart. Eh.
Hoooookay. What has happened to me this week . . . My mom's been awfully sick so I've been picking up the kids from school and doing a lot of errands for her. Cleaning a lot too. I would have done that regardless--clean freak. She's feeling a ton better which is super lucky since tomorrow I start work and I don't expect to have much free time . . . Add that to all the hours I have to spend at the gym training and having a life. . . busy, busy!
Tomorrow I must leave for the gym at 5:20 in the morning to complete my stinkin' workout before work. Normally I won't start work until 11 a.m., but tomorrow is orientation so it's earlier . . . I cannot wait for my normal work schedule to pick up. I feel like I'm dying without a set plan of activities every day!
Okay, so back in the first semester of college, my roommate bought us a fish and a crab for our dorm room. Except they died. Luckily, we had a 9 week warranty so we just brought the bodies back to Walmart and got new ones. Which also mysteriously died. I swear on my life I remembered to feed them!
After much deep thought, meditation, and careful study of the fish tanks at Walmart, we discovered the reasons for our woe.
The darn creatures needed warm water and were dying of cold. Sheesh. We stopped replacing them then because we couldn't afford to waste the money needed to buy ever a cheap water heater for our mini jar-tank. But a few days ago I realized I still had the fat jar and tons of goldfish food!
So I said to my sister, Catia: "I have a jar . . . and a LOT of fish food. I need a fish," and promptly went out to remedy the situation.
I bought a male Betta fish and named him Spongy. And then I felt bad about his tiny, boring, lonely enclosure, so I bought a little tank, some fake coral, a little 'no skinny dipping' sign, some fake greenery, lots of little pebbles for the bottom of the tank, some big pretty jewels for the bottom, and another fish! A female Betta. My sister named her Katie. I also ended up buying special Betta food and blood worms for them to eat after realizing that there was a reason my goldfish food said 'goldfish' on the bottle. Who knew all kinds of fish didn't eat the same thing?
Apparently Bettas are really violent fish. Which I had read about online and was the reason I bought a female to keep my Spongy company. Because the males are supposed to be the violent ones. But when I stuck the two together, Katie tried to eat Spongy's tail! I thought maybe it was some mating ritual thing but after a quick internet search discovered that was NOT the case, stuck my finger in the tank and gave Katie a little flick.
Male Bettas are GORGEOUS, p.s. The females . . . not as much.
I ended up having to stick Katie in the jar I had originally had Spongy in with a few sparkly jewels to liven up the scenery.
The sexes just can't get along in any species, can they?
Finished all the workouts on the agenda this week! Here is next week's schedule:
Monday: Run 4 miles and light upper and lower body weights
Tuesday: Run 12 miles
Wednesday: My choice of cross training and light upper and lower body weights
Thursday: Run 6 miles
Friday: Run 8 miles and light upper and lower body weights
Saturday: Run 6 miles
Sunday: Rest day
It's exactly the same except the long run on Tuesday is up two miles. It goes up two about every week. Except every fourth week is an easier week to give my body time to recuperate and heal.
David finished his last day of school on Friday! Woohoo! And I will see him in . . . three stinkin' days! Pretty stoked for that.
Today I have half a mohawk. I spiked up the back of my head with gel and bobby pins. It's kinda weird, but I like it. Guess I'm kinda a true drama kid at heart. Somewhere deep, deep in my heart. Eh.
Hoooookay. What has happened to me this week . . . My mom's been awfully sick so I've been picking up the kids from school and doing a lot of errands for her. Cleaning a lot too. I would have done that regardless--clean freak. She's feeling a ton better which is super lucky since tomorrow I start work and I don't expect to have much free time . . . Add that to all the hours I have to spend at the gym training and having a life. . . busy, busy!
Tomorrow I must leave for the gym at 5:20 in the morning to complete my stinkin' workout before work. Normally I won't start work until 11 a.m., but tomorrow is orientation so it's earlier . . . I cannot wait for my normal work schedule to pick up. I feel like I'm dying without a set plan of activities every day!
Okay, so back in the first semester of college, my roommate bought us a fish and a crab for our dorm room. Except they died. Luckily, we had a 9 week warranty so we just brought the bodies back to Walmart and got new ones. Which also mysteriously died. I swear on my life I remembered to feed them!
After much deep thought, meditation, and careful study of the fish tanks at Walmart, we discovered the reasons for our woe.
The darn creatures needed warm water and were dying of cold. Sheesh. We stopped replacing them then because we couldn't afford to waste the money needed to buy ever a cheap water heater for our mini jar-tank. But a few days ago I realized I still had the fat jar and tons of goldfish food!
So I said to my sister, Catia: "I have a jar . . . and a LOT of fish food. I need a fish," and promptly went out to remedy the situation.
I bought a male Betta fish and named him Spongy. And then I felt bad about his tiny, boring, lonely enclosure, so I bought a little tank, some fake coral, a little 'no skinny dipping' sign, some fake greenery, lots of little pebbles for the bottom of the tank, some big pretty jewels for the bottom, and another fish! A female Betta. My sister named her Katie. I also ended up buying special Betta food and blood worms for them to eat after realizing that there was a reason my goldfish food said 'goldfish' on the bottle. Who knew all kinds of fish didn't eat the same thing?
Apparently Bettas are really violent fish. Which I had read about online and was the reason I bought a female to keep my Spongy company. Because the males are supposed to be the violent ones. But when I stuck the two together, Katie tried to eat Spongy's tail! I thought maybe it was some mating ritual thing but after a quick internet search discovered that was NOT the case, stuck my finger in the tank and gave Katie a little flick.
Male Bettas are GORGEOUS, p.s. The females . . . not as much.
I ended up having to stick Katie in the jar I had originally had Spongy in with a few sparkly jewels to liven up the scenery.
The sexes just can't get along in any species, can they?
Saturday, May 1, 2010
Life Is Easier With No Goals Or Aspirations
Alright, it is time to start working on number 6 of my list of 21 things to do before I am 21 years of age. Number six is . . . Drum roll, please!
Run a marathon.
I am going to run the Heart of American Marathon on September 6th, 2010, in Columbia, Missouri.
I did a crap load of research about how to train for a marathon and then combined what I had learned/gathered from different sites, and made my own training schedule. Posted here at the end of the week will be the schedule for the upcoming week. It is an 18 week ordeal and starts this Monday.
P.S. I am not crazy by jumping into the training so fast--I already run seven miles a day. This schedule actually decreases my weekly mile total. It just is to get me used to running for longer. Building up mental endurance and all that.
Monday: Run 4 miles and light upper and lower body weights
Tuesday: Run 10 miles
Wednesday: My choice of cross training and light upper and lower body weights
Thursday: Run 6 miles
Friday: Run 8 miles and light upper and lower body weights
Saturday: Run 6 miles
Sunday: Rest day
And there you have it, folks! Wish me luck! I'll cross off the days as a complete them . . .
Run a marathon.
I am going to run the Heart of American Marathon on September 6th, 2010, in Columbia, Missouri.
I did a crap load of research about how to train for a marathon and then combined what I had learned/gathered from different sites, and made my own training schedule. Posted here at the end of the week will be the schedule for the upcoming week. It is an 18 week ordeal and starts this Monday.
P.S. I am not crazy by jumping into the training so fast--I already run seven miles a day. This schedule actually decreases my weekly mile total. It just is to get me used to running for longer. Building up mental endurance and all that.
Monday: Run 4 miles and light upper and lower body weights
Tuesday: Run 10 miles
Wednesday: My choice of cross training and light upper and lower body weights
Thursday: Run 6 miles
Friday: Run 8 miles and light upper and lower body weights
Saturday: Run 6 miles
Sunday: Rest day
And there you have it, folks! Wish me luck! I'll cross off the days as a complete them . . .
Friday, April 30, 2010
ZzzzZzZZZZzz . . .??
I need SLEEP!
Unfortunately I happen to be one of those messed up people who struggle each and every night at drifting away into sweet, unconscious bliss.
Sigh . . .
School is out for the summer! First year of college . . . OVER! Woohoo!!
Today I spend up towards five or six hours cleaning and moving back into my room and connected bathroom at home. Pretty spiffy. Even smells like disinfectant in here. Some corners were kinda sick--even found ants at one point. Groooooss.
I love cookies.
My daddy makes chocolate chip cookies every Sunday after church and I'm pretty psyched for this Sunday. Been a few weeks ;).
Woooow, so I totally felt like super woman when moving out yesterday. Well, technically two days ago since it's now 2 in the morning. But anyhow . . .
I moved all my possessions down two flights of stairs completely BY MYSELF. And some of those boxes/bags weighed over double my weight, I swear. My dad was impressed when he got there and there everything was: waiting ten steps away from where he parked the car.
Okay, ten steps is an exaggeration, but it was close. As close as I could have guessed at.
P.S. The girls in my hall did offer their services on several occasions, but I'm just real . . . snotty and hate people I'm not close to being in my space touching my stuff. I know it's not the same thing; it's all boxed up, but I still didn't want the help.
Gosh, I know this isn't really interesting, but I needed to do something to pass the time!
I do have more to write about all that happened to me today . . . but no one will read a blog entry that's too long so this is enough for now.
Goodbye, world.
Mwahahahahahaha!
Unfortunately I happen to be one of those messed up people who struggle each and every night at drifting away into sweet, unconscious bliss.
Sigh . . .
School is out for the summer! First year of college . . . OVER! Woohoo!!
Today I spend up towards five or six hours cleaning and moving back into my room and connected bathroom at home. Pretty spiffy. Even smells like disinfectant in here. Some corners were kinda sick--even found ants at one point. Groooooss.
I love cookies.
My daddy makes chocolate chip cookies every Sunday after church and I'm pretty psyched for this Sunday. Been a few weeks ;).
Woooow, so I totally felt like super woman when moving out yesterday. Well, technically two days ago since it's now 2 in the morning. But anyhow . . .
I moved all my possessions down two flights of stairs completely BY MYSELF. And some of those boxes/bags weighed over double my weight, I swear. My dad was impressed when he got there and there everything was: waiting ten steps away from where he parked the car.
Okay, ten steps is an exaggeration, but it was close. As close as I could have guessed at.
P.S. The girls in my hall did offer their services on several occasions, but I'm just real . . . snotty and hate people I'm not close to being in my space touching my stuff. I know it's not the same thing; it's all boxed up, but I still didn't want the help.
Gosh, I know this isn't really interesting, but I needed to do something to pass the time!
I do have more to write about all that happened to me today . . . but no one will read a blog entry that's too long so this is enough for now.
Goodbye, world.
Mwahahahahahaha!
Sunday, April 25, 2010
Nemesis
I have a nemesis.
She is approximately 12 years old, chubby, and has blond hair.
Remember those two little girls I mentioned in the Entomology Rescue entry?
Well. I ran into them again early Saturday afternoon on the track. That's literal. I almost took one out.
So there's two of these girls: one had dark hair and is tinier than a toothpick. She was wearing tank tops both times I saw her. I am going to call her Anna because she looks like an Anna. The other one is blond. She is really . . . heavy up top. But her legs are super skinny. She wears her jeans like a gangster guy (reallly saggin' down) and it looks like they're just to small for her to pull up to where they're supposed to be. She can't be more than twelve years old and she's already wearing vast amounts of crappily applied make up. It's easy to tell that she totally thinks she's 'all that' as she wants around with her chest stuck out, bossing tinsy little Anna around. I am calling her Nemesis.
I've never had a Nemesis before, this is slightly exciting!
So I'm running on the track and Nemesis decides it would be so funny to run in the opposite direction of everybody else! I mean--haha! What a riot! How could that NOT be funny?? Anna grabbed Nemesis's arm, attempting to rein in this blast of immature childishness but was quickly beaten down.
Of course, when Nemesis gets this run-in-the-wrong-direction-laughing-not-watching-where-she's-going idea I'm pretty close to her and Anna and she bloody barely misses being taken out by my super, high-speed running. Sigh, so annoying.
Anyway, I really shouldn't pick on her so much-she's just a kid-but I was never that misbehaved as a kid. Neither were any of my siblings.
Nemesis's next idea was to take off her flip-flops and try to peg the basketball players on the courts below the track with them. So she stood on the railing and threw her shoes at them. And then she threw Anna's shoes. I was planning to stop as I ran by and berate her for it but I think she read the expression on my face as I was getting closer and quickly ran off to get her shoes.
Nemesis and Anna left the court after that.
I swear I'm not picking on Nemesis just because she's chubby. But the fact that she so obviously hasn't been taught proper manners by her parents makes it easy to pick on her other faults.
There is no reason for a kid to be over weight. They're kids, for heaven's sake. They're metabolisms are in full gear and they should like to run around and play. If they're fat it's because:
A.) their parents let them watch television/play video games too extensively when they were young and so they have been taught it is the norm to sit on their butts all day. Or,
B.) their parents are too lazy to make healthy food and so the kids are given cake and cookies when they're hungry instead of real food. I mean, I'm not even saying you have to give your kids celery and raisins. Or spend two hours in the kitchen cooking before they come home from school. Just real food like . . . a PB&J sandwich. Even microwavable chicken nuggets. Anything except pre-packaged sugar crap!
And yeah, pre-packaged sugar crap is okay every once in a while. Just like having cookies and milk after school is okay every once in a while. But not every day!
Side note: this generation is so lazy!
My last final was today. I leave for home Wednesday! Woohoo!
I really love Lost as well. Just finished the second season today.
Anyhow . . . time to get off to bed. I love you world!
That's a lie. I only love some of the world. But I'm sure I'd love, or at least like, the rest of it if I only got to know it!
She is approximately 12 years old, chubby, and has blond hair.
Remember those two little girls I mentioned in the Entomology Rescue entry?
Well. I ran into them again early Saturday afternoon on the track. That's literal. I almost took one out.
So there's two of these girls: one had dark hair and is tinier than a toothpick. She was wearing tank tops both times I saw her. I am going to call her Anna because she looks like an Anna. The other one is blond. She is really . . . heavy up top. But her legs are super skinny. She wears her jeans like a gangster guy (reallly saggin' down) and it looks like they're just to small for her to pull up to where they're supposed to be. She can't be more than twelve years old and she's already wearing vast amounts of crappily applied make up. It's easy to tell that she totally thinks she's 'all that' as she wants around with her chest stuck out, bossing tinsy little Anna around. I am calling her Nemesis.
I've never had a Nemesis before, this is slightly exciting!
So I'm running on the track and Nemesis decides it would be so funny to run in the opposite direction of everybody else! I mean--haha! What a riot! How could that NOT be funny?? Anna grabbed Nemesis's arm, attempting to rein in this blast of immature childishness but was quickly beaten down.
Of course, when Nemesis gets this run-in-the-wrong-direction-laughing-not-watching-where-she's-going idea I'm pretty close to her and Anna and she bloody barely misses being taken out by my super, high-speed running. Sigh, so annoying.
Anyway, I really shouldn't pick on her so much-she's just a kid-but I was never that misbehaved as a kid. Neither were any of my siblings.
Nemesis's next idea was to take off her flip-flops and try to peg the basketball players on the courts below the track with them. So she stood on the railing and threw her shoes at them. And then she threw Anna's shoes. I was planning to stop as I ran by and berate her for it but I think she read the expression on my face as I was getting closer and quickly ran off to get her shoes.
Nemesis and Anna left the court after that.
I swear I'm not picking on Nemesis just because she's chubby. But the fact that she so obviously hasn't been taught proper manners by her parents makes it easy to pick on her other faults.
There is no reason for a kid to be over weight. They're kids, for heaven's sake. They're metabolisms are in full gear and they should like to run around and play. If they're fat it's because:
A.) their parents let them watch television/play video games too extensively when they were young and so they have been taught it is the norm to sit on their butts all day. Or,
B.) their parents are too lazy to make healthy food and so the kids are given cake and cookies when they're hungry instead of real food. I mean, I'm not even saying you have to give your kids celery and raisins. Or spend two hours in the kitchen cooking before they come home from school. Just real food like . . . a PB&J sandwich. Even microwavable chicken nuggets. Anything except pre-packaged sugar crap!
And yeah, pre-packaged sugar crap is okay every once in a while. Just like having cookies and milk after school is okay every once in a while. But not every day!
Side note: this generation is so lazy!
My last final was today. I leave for home Wednesday! Woohoo!
I really love Lost as well. Just finished the second season today.
Anyhow . . . time to get off to bed. I love you world!
That's a lie. I only love some of the world. But I'm sure I'd love, or at least like, the rest of it if I only got to know it!
Wednesday, April 21, 2010
Lazy Cakes
It is time for another one of my stunningly entertaining blog entries!
Ha.
Anyhow, today I decided to start packing--spending maybe an hour on the task just to kick it off to a good start. Five hours later I am not only all the way packed, but have scoured every little minuscule speck of dirty out of every secretive little corner in this room.
Moving the mattresses and bed frames? Serious arm and abs work out ;P.
I know I'll have to vacuum again before I actually get to leave next week but I'm trying to avoid it at all costs.
I own so little! Heavens!
On to something entertaining . . . There's a new Office episode tomorrow!! Totally going to make my week!
Gosh . . . I have had a terribly boring week.
I decidedly am obsessed with Lost. Along with the Office.
I love Dairy Queen ice cream. I hope they are around in heaven ;P.
Tsk, tsk. Let us all hope something earth shattering happens to me tomorrow for me to write on. I can't disappoint my plethora of readers another time (again--haha)!
*static, static, buzz*
Cassi Marie out!
*static, buzz, static*
Ha.
Anyhow, today I decided to start packing--spending maybe an hour on the task just to kick it off to a good start. Five hours later I am not only all the way packed, but have scoured every little minuscule speck of dirty out of every secretive little corner in this room.
Moving the mattresses and bed frames? Serious arm and abs work out ;P.
I know I'll have to vacuum again before I actually get to leave next week but I'm trying to avoid it at all costs.
I own so little! Heavens!
On to something entertaining . . . There's a new Office episode tomorrow!! Totally going to make my week!
Gosh . . . I have had a terribly boring week.
I decidedly am obsessed with Lost. Along with the Office.
I love Dairy Queen ice cream. I hope they are around in heaven ;P.
Tsk, tsk. Let us all hope something earth shattering happens to me tomorrow for me to write on. I can't disappoint my plethora of readers another time (again--haha)!
*static, static, buzz*
Cassi Marie out!
*static, buzz, static*
Saturday, April 17, 2010
Everything Is Better Mild
I have had a mildly frustrating day thus far.
That's pretty much all I had to say.
Transferring colleges is such . . .a pain. No one seems to know anything. No one is helpful. No one likes you! And why would they? They don't know you.
Psht. Sigh. I've done all I can today.
Two finals on Monday. One on Wednesday. One a week from Monday. Should be a breeze.
Ish.
Lots of cleaning to do this week to move out.
Many people to call about work . . .
Sigh.
What do I want right now?
Not to sleep.
Not food.
I don't even know!
How terrible!
Off to run . . .
That's pretty much all I had to say.
Transferring colleges is such . . .a pain. No one seems to know anything. No one is helpful. No one likes you! And why would they? They don't know you.
Psht. Sigh. I've done all I can today.
Two finals on Monday. One on Wednesday. One a week from Monday. Should be a breeze.
Ish.
Lots of cleaning to do this week to move out.
Many people to call about work . . .
Sigh.
What do I want right now?
Not to sleep.
Not food.
I don't even know!
How terrible!
Off to run . . .
Monday, April 12, 2010
21 Before 21
Except for the first two things these are my 'fun' goals. I better print this out and stick it on my mirror otherwise I'll be scrambling the month before my 21st birthday (haha).
1. Get a dog. CHECK
2. House train that dog. CHECK
3. Plan and do a skit like 'Improv Everywhere.'
4. Direct a play.
5. Be in another play.
6. Run a marathon. CHECK
7. Play in a Missouri thunderstorm. CHECK
8. Slap someone as hard as I can. CHECK
9. Take self defense classes.
10. Learn a decent amount of ballroom dance. CHECK
11. Take and ace ballet II.
12. Start regularly volunteering.
13. Record a CD.
14. Finish my book.
15. Hug a complete stranger and pretend that I know them.
16. Think of a funny tradition to start with my future kids.
17. Pull an all-nighter. CHECK
18. Be able to do the splits.
19. Sleep outside without a tent.
20. Sleep in an igloo. CHECK
21. Go on a picnic with a real picnic basket. CHECK
1. Get a dog. CHECK
2. House train that dog. CHECK
3. Plan and do a skit like 'Improv Everywhere.'
4. Direct a play.
5. Be in another play.
6. Run a marathon. CHECK
7. Play in a Missouri thunderstorm. CHECK
8. Slap someone as hard as I can. CHECK
9. Take self defense classes.
10. Learn a decent amount of ballroom dance. CHECK
11. Take and ace ballet II.
12. Start regularly volunteering.
13. Record a CD.
14. Finish my book.
15. Hug a complete stranger and pretend that I know them.
16. Think of a funny tradition to start with my future kids.
17. Pull an all-nighter. CHECK
18. Be able to do the splits.
19. Sleep outside without a tent.
20. Sleep in an igloo. CHECK
21. Go on a picnic with a real picnic basket. CHECK
I Apologize . . .
All in all, today was a pretty gosh darn boring day. I did get all the rest of my end-of-semester papers written . . . except one. Which I will finish up tomorrow. Then it's just coasting these last two weeks until semester ends.
So DULL!
The reason I have it so easy is because theater classes don't really do big, hard finals. They space all their 'hard' jazz throughout the semester. In a way this is GREAT, but it means that everybody else I know is totally bogged down with studying and I have NOTHING TO DO!
Except run everyday. And eat. And sleep. And breath. And, um, shower.
I'm exaggerating. I actually feel really relieved at having nothing to do! Which makes it sound like I'm usually super busy. Which is actually another untruth. Ah, well.
Right now I am going over my day, trying to pick apart something that would be interesting to write on.
Some of the girls on my hall are making a big collage of all of us living here as part of our end-of-semester bang. So they're walking around taking pictures of us in our element, doing all our own individual 'things' that we're known for.
Guess what they wanted me doing in my pictures?
They wanted one in my running get-up and one with me washing my pans. So I'm known as the running cook?
I am so EXCITED for summer! One, because excitement is customary at this time of year. Two, no more bloody papers. Three, I'll have a JOB again. And FOUR! It'll be WARM!
So from browsing other people's blogs, everyone seems to have a list of goals they want to accomplish before they are. I've decided I'm going to do that same thing. On my next entry. Just as a precursor, the list will NOT be in order of importance. Just in the order my brain puts them in.
Off to bed now . . .
So DULL!
The reason I have it so easy is because theater classes don't really do big, hard finals. They space all their 'hard' jazz throughout the semester. In a way this is GREAT, but it means that everybody else I know is totally bogged down with studying and I have NOTHING TO DO!
Except run everyday. And eat. And sleep. And breath. And, um, shower.
I'm exaggerating. I actually feel really relieved at having nothing to do! Which makes it sound like I'm usually super busy. Which is actually another untruth. Ah, well.
Right now I am going over my day, trying to pick apart something that would be interesting to write on.
Some of the girls on my hall are making a big collage of all of us living here as part of our end-of-semester bang. So they're walking around taking pictures of us in our element, doing all our own individual 'things' that we're known for.
Guess what they wanted me doing in my pictures?
They wanted one in my running get-up and one with me washing my pans. So I'm known as the running cook?
I am so EXCITED for summer! One, because excitement is customary at this time of year. Two, no more bloody papers. Three, I'll have a JOB again. And FOUR! It'll be WARM!
So from browsing other people's blogs, everyone seems to have a list of goals they want to accomplish before they are
Off to bed now . . .
Friday, April 9, 2010
Spontaneous Nose Bleeds
I never get nose bleeds.
Ever.
Understand?
I got a nose bleed Friday night.
It was for absolutely NO reason. Except that it's now officially (at least in my mind) allergy season and the world hates me. I was just washing my face and BAM. It happened.
No, I was not secretly picking my nose.
Ever.
Understand?
I got a nose bleed Friday night.
It was for absolutely NO reason. Except that it's now officially (at least in my mind) allergy season and the world hates me. I was just washing my face and BAM. It happened.
No, I was not secretly picking my nose.
Entomology Rescue
Today all my core values regarding the sanctity of life were pulled into question.
As I was doing my customary 7 mile run on the monotonous track inside my school's P.E. building (10 laps equals a mile--gets awfully dull) I kept noticing a black spot. A particular, minuscule black spot. Right outside the last track line where it begins its first curve.
I feel obligated to remind all my many (ha) avid readers WHY it was so easy for me to notice a little black spot on the track floor as being out of place and new. You run seventy laps every day except Sunday in the same circle and you'll know every dirt speck around that circle too.
Back to my story . . . Eventually the irritating mystery of the black spot wore so much on my nerves that I actually had to stop to check out what it was. Any guesses?
A beetle stuck on its back.
I felt kinda bad for the poor thing so I tried to flip it right-side-up with my finger but it was waving those nasty legs in the air and I didn't want it latching onto my finger and crawling onto my hand. I'd probably freak out and flick it to tim-buck-two (however that's spelled).
Side note--bug legs look like eyelashes that have been cursed with disgustingness and come alive.
So I run down two flights of stairs off the track and to the girls locker room, grab my ID card from my bag, and run back to the track. Sliding the card oh-so carefully under the beetle-in-distress, I flip him over. Then I say, out loud (no joke), "you're welcome" and go to put my card away.
After running a few more miles I find myself alone on the track . . . that is, until two bratty little girls (12-ish years old) tromp in. Now, other people on my track do not irritate me. Unless they are not running/walking. There is NOTHING ELSE in that bloody room. You don't go there and stand in place. Especially not in my lane. Because then I have to run around you. And that, as my dear David would say, HACKS ME OFF!
Ah, hem. Anyway. Then these girls go over to the little weight shoulder machine (which is broken) near the corner of the track (also where the beetle I rescued was residing), tear the "do not move the equipment" sign off the wall, giggle, and run out.
Seriously, people. Teach your kids some manners. My siblings would NEVER have done that.
Anyway, the thought crosses my mind: what if they stepped on my beetle?? So I rush on over there.
He's on his back again. So I grab my ID card and try to flip him over. But he keeps just rolling around. Then I realize:
He's dead.
Oh.
Then I leave.
As I was doing my customary 7 mile run on the monotonous track inside my school's P.E. building (10 laps equals a mile--gets awfully dull) I kept noticing a black spot. A particular, minuscule black spot. Right outside the last track line where it begins its first curve.
I feel obligated to remind all my many (ha) avid readers WHY it was so easy for me to notice a little black spot on the track floor as being out of place and new. You run seventy laps every day except Sunday in the same circle and you'll know every dirt speck around that circle too.
Back to my story . . . Eventually the irritating mystery of the black spot wore so much on my nerves that I actually had to stop to check out what it was. Any guesses?
A beetle stuck on its back.
I felt kinda bad for the poor thing so I tried to flip it right-side-up with my finger but it was waving those nasty legs in the air and I didn't want it latching onto my finger and crawling onto my hand. I'd probably freak out and flick it to tim-buck-two (however that's spelled).
Side note--bug legs look like eyelashes that have been cursed with disgustingness and come alive.
So I run down two flights of stairs off the track and to the girls locker room, grab my ID card from my bag, and run back to the track. Sliding the card oh-so carefully under the beetle-in-distress, I flip him over. Then I say, out loud (no joke), "you're welcome" and go to put my card away.
After running a few more miles I find myself alone on the track . . . that is, until two bratty little girls (12-ish years old) tromp in. Now, other people on my track do not irritate me. Unless they are not running/walking. There is NOTHING ELSE in that bloody room. You don't go there and stand in place. Especially not in my lane. Because then I have to run around you. And that, as my dear David would say, HACKS ME OFF!
Ah, hem. Anyway. Then these girls go over to the little weight shoulder machine (which is broken) near the corner of the track (also where the beetle I rescued was residing), tear the "do not move the equipment" sign off the wall, giggle, and run out.
Seriously, people. Teach your kids some manners. My siblings would NEVER have done that.
Anyway, the thought crosses my mind: what if they stepped on my beetle?? So I rush on over there.
He's on his back again. So I grab my ID card and try to flip him over. But he keeps just rolling around. Then I realize:
He's dead.
Oh.
Then I leave.
Thursday, April 8, 2010
Paranoia Towards Roses
Last night a terrible thing happened.
I had an allergy attack.
Doesn't that sound dreadfully dramatic? It was more like an allergy episode to be completely fair. I was awoken just a bit before noon (!!) with a phone call and my eyes were all swollen. The culprit is yet to be discovered. . .
Before I continue to lay out my suspicions for you regarding what caused this harrowing event, let me first say that I do not practice regularly waking up when half the day is already over. But I was up late. Reading blogs. Sheesh, it's addicting.
I was given roses which are in a vase in my room now. When I first awoke to the itchy agony I laid upon them the initial blame. I think that might fall in the category of 'paranoid' though.
So I will remain in the dark . . .
I had an allergy attack.
Doesn't that sound dreadfully dramatic? It was more like an allergy episode to be completely fair. I was awoken just a bit before noon (!!) with a phone call and my eyes were all swollen. The culprit is yet to be discovered. . .
Before I continue to lay out my suspicions for you regarding what caused this harrowing event, let me first say that I do not practice regularly waking up when half the day is already over. But I was up late. Reading blogs. Sheesh, it's addicting.
I was given roses which are in a vase in my room now. When I first awoke to the itchy agony I laid upon them the initial blame. I think that might fall in the category of 'paranoid' though.
So I will remain in the dark . . .
Wednesday, April 7, 2010
An Odd Fascination
Hello sunshine, the earth says hello!
Not really. It doesn't like you that much.
My blog entry today will be about different styles of kissing.
My good friend Miranda told me once that there are three different types of kissers: lippers, biters, and tonguers. And then I just decided to add 'slobberers.' This was not previously on the list because I had believe that this was the way ALL guys kissed. Well, and girls. Having never kissed a girl I wouldn't know exactly how that would go down. Granted, I haven't kissed many guys, but in my select experience I have always had to WIPE MY MOUTH because they couldn't keep their nasty saliva to themselves. Now, maybe this is just my extreme OCD neatness kicking in but I think that's just gross. As a result, I have never enjoyed kissing. Ew. My girl friends used to always joke that I'd be the type of person who got married and practiced abstinence my whole life because I was too grossed out by the 's' word. My guy friends said that I'd just never kissed a good kisser. Typical guy thing to say.
Goodbye.
Not really. It doesn't like you that much.
My blog entry today will be about different styles of kissing.
My good friend Miranda told me once that there are three different types of kissers: lippers, biters, and tonguers. And then I just decided to add 'slobberers.' This was not previously on the list because I had believe that this was the way ALL guys kissed. Well, and girls. Having never kissed a girl I wouldn't know exactly how that would go down. Granted, I haven't kissed many guys, but in my select experience I have always had to WIPE MY MOUTH because they couldn't keep their nasty saliva to themselves. Now, maybe this is just my extreme OCD neatness kicking in but I think that's just gross. As a result, I have never enjoyed kissing. Ew. My girl friends used to always joke that I'd be the type of person who got married and practiced abstinence my whole life because I was too grossed out by the 's' word. My guy friends said that I'd just never kissed a good kisser. Typical guy thing to say.
Goodbye.
Tuesday, April 6, 2010
Dearest, Darlingest
I SHOULD be doing homework. And I need to call my mom. And put some clothes on. But what they hey!
I was startled awake about an hour ago with a phone call. Definitely a good thing otherwise I probably would have slept clear until my class as three instead of just eleven. After we talked for a while I found myself reading random blogs and eating cookie dough. I LOVE COOKIE DOUGH!
This week was amazing!
Alright . . . I wrote the above about twelve hours ago and then decided that yes. I did need to be doing homework. So I saved it in a draft and went running. So much for homework.
I am exhausted!
The purpose of this blog was for me to be able to keep an incognito online diary. But I'm so sick of not using names. The gloves come off! I am no longer anonymous.
Enough for tonight. I have more to write but that'll come tomorrow. Entries that are too long will lose reader's attention. Especially when they are as dreadfully unamusing as this one is. However, it is awfully late and my attention is waning so I must go . . .
I was startled awake about an hour ago with a phone call. Definitely a good thing otherwise I probably would have slept clear until my class as three instead of just eleven. After we talked for a while I found myself reading random blogs and eating cookie dough. I LOVE COOKIE DOUGH!
This week was amazing!
Alright . . . I wrote the above about twelve hours ago and then decided that yes. I did need to be doing homework. So I saved it in a draft and went running. So much for homework.
I am exhausted!
The purpose of this blog was for me to be able to keep an incognito online diary. But I'm so sick of not using names. The gloves come off! I am no longer anonymous.
Enough for tonight. I have more to write but that'll come tomorrow. Entries that are too long will lose reader's attention. Especially when they are as dreadfully unamusing as this one is. However, it is awfully late and my attention is waning so I must go . . .
Sunday, March 28, 2010
Oatmeal
Since my last entry was so depressing, I decided today I'd write about something I LOVE.
I love oatmeal! Everything is better with oatmeal. Oatmeal is better with oatmeal, cookies are better with oatmeal . . . that's all I can think of right now.
And that's all I have to say about oatmeal!
Alright. So todaaaay . . . I woke up, did my hair for the first time in weeks, went to church, did NOT fall asleep, was forced to announce my 'engagement' in Relief Society, came home, went to lunch, watched Princess and the Frog, chilled in the lobbing talking to the girls on my hall about boys, went to dinner, made healthy brownies, made unhealthy brownies, made cookies, washed dishes, and sat to write in this blog.
Now, to elaborate: it is awfully awkward to tell people about my engagement because I'm not engaged. I'm just getting married next June. But I'm not engaged. Yes, you read that right. But how do I explain this to people? Psht. Next thing: the healthy brownies were gross. I threw the batter away without cooking it. The normal, unhealthy brownies were gross too. I threw those away after cooking them. Then I made cookies to give to the girls as a peace offering since I had promised brownies and now could not deliver.
This brownie conundrum has put me in quite a foul mood. Seriously. I've never had trouble cooking something before! I just look at a bazillion recipes and then make up my own after I understand the have-to-haves of whatever I'm making. I've made, like, everything on the face of this planet. Except brownies from scratch. Now I think I'll stick with the junk in the package. No. Actually, I will just never make brownies again and stick with my celery. Ants on a log. Mmmm. What did I do wrong to make such a rancid sweet?? I might never know!
Sheesh.
Aaaalrighy! What else to write about?
Oh, yes! I LOVE Princess and the Frog!!
And I love country music! It makes me smile.
My goal is to now think of something incredibly witty to capture the most intellectual of audiences and thus cause everyone to become vividly emamoured with any subsequential blog entries I may post. Then I'll win some award (for the blog entries, of course) and become a multi-millionaire.
What the freaking crap did I do wrong with those brownies??
Okay. Definitely enough of this.
I love oatmeal! Everything is better with oatmeal. Oatmeal is better with oatmeal, cookies are better with oatmeal . . . that's all I can think of right now.
And that's all I have to say about oatmeal!
Alright. So todaaaay . . . I woke up, did my hair for the first time in weeks, went to church, did NOT fall asleep, was forced to announce my 'engagement' in Relief Society, came home, went to lunch, watched Princess and the Frog, chilled in the lobbing talking to the girls on my hall about boys, went to dinner, made healthy brownies, made unhealthy brownies, made cookies, washed dishes, and sat to write in this blog.
Now, to elaborate: it is awfully awkward to tell people about my engagement because I'm not engaged. I'm just getting married next June. But I'm not engaged. Yes, you read that right. But how do I explain this to people? Psht. Next thing: the healthy brownies were gross. I threw the batter away without cooking it. The normal, unhealthy brownies were gross too. I threw those away after cooking them. Then I made cookies to give to the girls as a peace offering since I had promised brownies and now could not deliver.
This brownie conundrum has put me in quite a foul mood. Seriously. I've never had trouble cooking something before! I just look at a bazillion recipes and then make up my own after I understand the have-to-haves of whatever I'm making. I've made, like, everything on the face of this planet. Except brownies from scratch. Now I think I'll stick with the junk in the package. No. Actually, I will just never make brownies again and stick with my celery. Ants on a log. Mmmm. What did I do wrong to make such a rancid sweet?? I might never know!
Sheesh.
Aaaalrighy! What else to write about?
Oh, yes! I LOVE Princess and the Frog!!
And I love country music! It makes me smile.
My goal is to now think of something incredibly witty to capture the most intellectual of audiences and thus cause everyone to become vividly emamoured with any subsequential blog entries I may post. Then I'll win some award (for the blog entries, of course) and become a multi-millionaire.
What the freaking crap did I do wrong with those brownies??
Okay. Definitely enough of this.
Friday, March 26, 2010
I Hate Boys
The title says it all. Not that I'm saying I'm not ATTRACTED to boys. Heavens, I'm definitely the farthest away from being a lesbian as anyone could be, but all boys seem to either be either vividly unintelligent or socially awkward in quite an appalling manner.
Anyway. I am so sick of guys hitting on me. And not even doing it with any kind of class! They see my pretty face and don't care about anything else. . . the shallowness INFURIATES me. Disgusting. What's really sad is that this really is the world we live in today-- brains, wit, personality . . . they're not so important anymore. It's like all you need to succeed is to be slightly skinnier than is healthy, an oval face, and big eyes. Or something like that.
The strangest thing is . . . whenever I get some much-too-forward message on facebook, or a text, or some dude saying some shallow, complimentary bogus to my face, do I feel all fluttery and good inside? Flattered? No. I feel so ALONE. Who knows me around here? No one. I'm just that disgustingly pretty girl on the top floor. That's ALL. Not the nice girl who likes to cook. Or . . . well, anything. Basically. I'm trying to say that everyone just knows me for my looks. And no one WANTS to know me for anything else. Tonight is just one of those nights when the reality of everything just hits me and . . . well I don't really know where I was going with that. I want to scream and cry and beat something all at the same time.
I miss being close to my friends and my family-- people who grew up with me before we all hit puberty and starting dating and all that jazz. And then moving on and away to college . . .
Anyway, this is a pointless post but some some odd reason after receiving another message from an idiot boy on facebook I felt awfully depressed and wanted to write something about how I was feeling. So there.
Peace out.
Anyway. I am so sick of guys hitting on me. And not even doing it with any kind of class! They see my pretty face and don't care about anything else. . . the shallowness INFURIATES me. Disgusting. What's really sad is that this really is the world we live in today-- brains, wit, personality . . . they're not so important anymore. It's like all you need to succeed is to be slightly skinnier than is healthy, an oval face, and big eyes. Or something like that.
The strangest thing is . . . whenever I get some much-too-forward message on facebook, or a text, or some dude saying some shallow, complimentary bogus to my face, do I feel all fluttery and good inside? Flattered? No. I feel so ALONE. Who knows me around here? No one. I'm just that disgustingly pretty girl on the top floor. That's ALL. Not the nice girl who likes to cook. Or . . . well, anything. Basically. I'm trying to say that everyone just knows me for my looks. And no one WANTS to know me for anything else. Tonight is just one of those nights when the reality of everything just hits me and . . . well I don't really know where I was going with that. I want to scream and cry and beat something all at the same time.
I miss being close to my friends and my family-- people who grew up with me before we all hit puberty and starting dating and all that jazz. And then moving on and away to college . . .
Anyway, this is a pointless post but some some odd reason after receiving another message from an idiot boy on facebook I felt awfully depressed and wanted to write something about how I was feeling. So there.
Peace out.
Sunday, March 21, 2010
Me, Myself, and I
Hello! My name is Cassi Marie. Here's a basic synopsis of where I'm at in life: I'm going to college for musical theater, I live in the dorm-style apartments on campus and I have no roommate (Yeeees!). I'm 18, credit-wise a sophomore, have 2 sisters and 3 brothers . . . Okay, that's all I feel like writing about myself today.
I decided to start a blog because I am sick of the cramps in my hand from writing in my diary but I do want some way to record my thoughts and feelings every once in a while. So I shall simply print out these blog entries and tape them hapharzardly into my diary. Viola!
Yeah, I know, I'm not very funny. I have a two page paper and a research paper I should be working on at the moment but . . .
I love my life! I have an amazing family, I love school, my health is perfect, the days are getting warmer!
Almost burst out into song there . . .
Today . . . nothing blog worthy happened. Or even diary worthy for that matter. I have quite a headache though. A friend of mine told me that she never has never had a headache before in her life. She gets jawaches instead. Because she holds all her tension in her jaw. Or something to that effect. Anyhow, at first I was thinking that sounded awfully lucky but now I can't decide which I would prefer-- an horrid headache or a jealous jaw.
Okay, that sounded stupid. I was trying to use alliteration. Couldn't think of another negative 'j' word.
Anyhow, I've had enough typing for one day.
I decided to start a blog because I am sick of the cramps in my hand from writing in my diary but I do want some way to record my thoughts and feelings every once in a while. So I shall simply print out these blog entries and tape them hapharzardly into my diary. Viola!
Yeah, I know, I'm not very funny. I have a two page paper and a research paper I should be working on at the moment but . . .
I love my life! I have an amazing family, I love school, my health is perfect, the days are getting warmer!
Almost burst out into song there . . .
Today . . . nothing blog worthy happened. Or even diary worthy for that matter. I have quite a headache though. A friend of mine told me that she never has never had a headache before in her life. She gets jawaches instead. Because she holds all her tension in her jaw. Or something to that effect. Anyhow, at first I was thinking that sounded awfully lucky but now I can't decide which I would prefer-- an horrid headache or a jealous jaw.
Okay, that sounded stupid. I was trying to use alliteration. Couldn't think of another negative 'j' word.
Anyhow, I've had enough typing for one day.
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